Glass Hearts
by Mattias Astralix
Summary: Lex Luthor find out why Clark has vanished and what terrible things can happen to those you love CLEX
1. Prologue

**Glass Hearts**

Prologue

When glass falls on the ground it shatters into a thousand pieces. Fragmented crystals glimmer as they steal the light and scratch the air with splintering cries. They collapse inwards, circles of slither slight shards bursting and their violent explosion leaves them in piles of barbarous dust… Just like the way your eyes cave inwards on tape as my father leans forward to whisper in your ear… Something unheard on the camera-lens but so transparent in those dark, hurt orbs that I love so much. The bruises, the blood, the livid red records of the torture inflicted on your perfect body; these are nothing compared to the broken fragments in your beautiful eyes…

I used to look at you and smile, even though you couldn't see how much you made me feel… I used to watch you as you spoke with Lana, as I sipped at one of her (not-quite-cappuccino) -cappuccinos… You always gave her this look that I wished could be mine… But I knew never could be… It was so sad, yet so beautiful to see you follow her every move with such innocent passion… Just like my not so innocent eyes on you. Each full, half moon smile made a strange joy flutter across my skin like autumnal leaves on the earth; because you were so pure, so innocent, so naïve and hopeful it wrenches at my heart to see you now.

Do you remember the meaning of hope now? Or rescue? Or joy? Do you remember feeling safe? Or how to trust like you used to? Or even how to smile that precious way that only you can…? Has the brute that is my father taken every dredge of your innocence from you? Are you still my Clark Kent? The man that saved me from a car deep under the river's waters, rescued me as I placed myself in the hands of Earl, preserved me in your loyalty and infinite belief in the good of others. Does that man exist? Or has he been stripped bare of dignity and optimism completely?

Clark, I can't promise you complete freedom, but I can promise to get you away from the monster that is Lionel Luther. I can't promise to heal you of all your scars, but I will try. God will I try…

This tape will be burnt, it is sickening to imagine my father watching his own cruelty on tape, but I know he does. He taped me once… As my happiness was stolen, as I lost my mother to her cancer. He doesn't even deny his lust for blood and the shadows on his face make his sunken eyes feral. A veneer of sanity over the real madness, glowing each time he reduces someone as strong as you to something as fragile as crystal… Just like glass, just like your eyes, just like my heart; his façade breaks when the insane glean conquers his soul.

But with so much shattered, like the silvery shards on the floor and decorating my raw fist, I don't want our friendship to have done so too. And I'm sorry I left you for so long. And I'm sorry I didn't see this any sooner. And I wish I could have saved from this punishment before it happened… But I didn't think and I need you to forgive me Clark. Because for all my distance and aloof exterior; I love you.

Strange though it is, that a man like I can love, it is true. It was shocking and terrifying for me to come to terms with but I know it to be as real as your blood as it trickles down your cheek; a single, ruby tear. For once in your life, you need salvation - not me. I need to save you. Then something catches my eye.

Green rock.

My father's hands are gone from your battered body. Men are closing in and your body sags as blood begins to flow from wounds that seemed closed. Pulsating green rock. The meteor rock from dreams and nightmares; in each of the faceless brutes' hands. Your eyes drift shut, teeth grit and the blood still carves up the ragged, bruised skin. The crimson rivulets seem to be flowing in time with the rhythmic vermillion light. What have they done to you? Why do these rocks hurt you? One drags his shard down your throat and you moan, torment lining your face. Veins in your neck taught and peering closely I can see them crawling with a strange life that I know is slowly killing you.

I always knew you were different Clark… Is it this inexplicable horror the truth that you hide? Oh yes, I know you don't tell me everything. It pains me, but I try to except that you can't tell me the absolute truth. I've seen the way you look to your father, as if asking permission to say something. Every time I've seen his imperceptible denial of your wish and I've noticed your eyes mist with a hurt that is only a shadow of the agony that is a part of you now. Your weakened body, your shattered soul is so transparent as another knife-like meteor slices across your shoulder, down your arm. And for the first time on this recording I hear you scream, see tears rolling unchecked on your face. Unearthly, animalistic, crazed…

I feel heat stinging in my own eyes. For the first time in nearly eleven years I realise I am crying. Crying for you. Crying for your pain. Crying for the unjustified torture. Oh Clark… I'm so sorry… I love you… I'm so sorry…> Next chapter is Paper Dolls! Hope y'all like this! xxxx 


	2. Paper Dolls

**Glass Hearts**

**Forgot to say this before: I own none of the main characters in this story, much as I would love to. And this goes for all coming chapters plus the prologue. Enjoy m'dears! **

Chapter One - Paper Dolls

The room was whitewashed. Cold, naked white; streaked with dark red and brown stains in patches that made the purpose of the strange little room all too obvious. The air vent was a pale green, stained by the strange gas that was being filtered through and the floor, similarly stained to the wall, was littered with scraps of green stone. In one corner, hands roped together, was the crumpled form of a young man.

Blood trickled down his half naked body. His eyes were still tightly closed, his hands curled around his knees, huddling into a foetal position. He felt safer like this, as if he could block out the pain, hide from the men that he knew would come… he knew that once he opened his eyes, the battle would begin. He wasn't ready for it to begin, he wanted the world he lived in to go back to being safe.

If he let them, nightmares could climb the insides of his eyes… And no matter how much he cried out, no matter how loud he screamed, it didn't make his agony nor the intoxicating anguish any less.

The air always held that same scent, the metallic odour of blood as it oozed out of freshly carved wounds. Sometimes he tried to trick himself into believing there was no such thing as pain…. But he never could lie, not even to himself… He felt pain and suffering, he felt their razor sharp needles poking through his skin and taking away his blood... He wished he could cleanse himself from the disease that they tortured him for, hoped that it would go away…. But knew it never would… The disease was him and he was the problem of the world.

'No one cares… No one's looking for me… I hurt everyone… I destroy everything I love and they've all realised… I want … I need…. Please…' His eyes screwed up tightly as his thoughts blanked out the all consuming green that tore through the safety of the dark, 'I pushed them away… I hurt them… I hurt Lex…' "Lex…" he murmured, blood trickled out from his mouth.

"He's not coming." The Voice was back. The men… He could hear their breathing, the excited heart beats. He curled closer into himself before feeling the entrance of Kryptonite. He moaned and more blood oozed up from his throat.

The Voice, Lionel Luthor, tipped his face upwards, Clark's eyes peered up at him as they cracked open. Bloodshot and sore, the once vibrant blue eyes were now a dulled grey. Lionel smiled, he loved the way the Kent boy lay so helplessly broken before him, so weak and pathetic. "He doesn't care about you Kent. No body could care for a monster such as yourself."

"Filthy fucking alien…" he heard someone mutter.

Lionel only smiled, "Only a few more questions."

Clark tried to shake his head, tried to deny anything, everything in his mind. He didn't know anything. He didn't know any more than these men… Why couldn't they just stop? Why wouldn't they leave him here alone?

"Do we need to persuade you?" They were playing with him. Lionel smirked as undiluted terror ran across the boy's once noble feature, he knew that Clark Kent, 'Kal-el', didn't know anything more about his heritage than what was already told. He had taken everything from the boy. Everything he could take.

"Go ahead boys."

Kent was so weak, needles broke the once impenetrable skin and the krypton made blood bubble behind wounds, sliding scabs aside and trickling out. The men clenched their fists and their blows burnt and tears leaked down his face. He screamed.

--------

Cold grey eyes waited for Lionel Luthor as he entered his office. Cold grey eyes that burnt through him like molten mercury. There was no open expression, only indifference as the owner of those eyes dropped his feet from the oak desk to the floor so the man could stand. The movement was graceful but something about it sent sparks of unease down the older Luthor's spine. Not that it would show.

"Father." Lex Luthor stood, proud and arrogant as ever behind his desk.

Lionel's lips twisted into a smirk, "Lex, to what do I owe the pleasure."

But it wasn't going to be so easy this time, Luthor-Senior grimaced as a smile graced his son's lips, a perfectly fake smile, "I was in the area and thought I might as well pay a visit to my father."

"You don't expect me to believe that Lex," he half laughed, "We both know there is no love lost between us."

"Yes, well who's fault is that?"

They said all this with their false smiles in place and a familial air, despite the undertones of tension.

"Scotch?"

Lex's grey eyes searched him over, indifferent cold making Lionel feel less and less certain. Ever since Lexcorp had been founded the ground beneath their shoes had been less steady and the delicate stage they acted upon was falling apart, "I'll pass."

Lionel poured himself some, relishing the way the liquid amber flooded the glass and scented the room with it's perfect intoxication. He knew his son was up to something. The only question was: _what? _Straightening himself up, he wafted the glass close to his nose, delighting in the overwhelming scent that flood through him.

"I've a proposition father." Lex finally spoke, his eyes still piercing the foundations of Lionel's security net, "One I think you ought to hear."

---------

Every breath in rasped. Every breath out gargled with the blood locked in his throat and chest. Each gasp wheezed painfully as the hovering green air refused to allow him to heal. Blood trickled from unhealed wounds. The laughter of ghosts trickled into his head. Drifting him away… Taking the boy from the stars to fly as close to home as perhaps he ever would…

Shivers turned to nothing as the boy's muscles sagged. Limbs became limp as the gas flooded into him. Breathing quietened… Stopped… The heavy chest became completely still.

Behind a camera eyes widened, "Fuck!" Red lights began to flash as a hand slammed down on the panic button. Men, usually passive bullies, hired for their hatred and lust for pain crashed through into the room. One man, smaller than the rest stepped out to look for the boy's pulse. Blurred words and revolving faces trapped the room in a time of it's own.

"He needs help."

"He's a goddamn alien."

"He's dying! Fucking weak for the almighty conqueror now ain't he!" People were laughing as they trembled. If this kid died…

---------

-Alien- Flashed up on Lionel's pager. He frowned, glancing briefly at his son. He smiled slightly, lifting his lips in a sly smirk.

"I've got to go, son. Urgent business." He rose, saw that his son was making no move from his desk and a half scowl flickered into life, "I trust you'll see yourself out."

Lex merely nodded. His bald scalp catching the light in a semi-halo that made Lionel's eyes narrow with insanity. Impetuous youth, he had tried to make it crumble, tried to squash the rebellion he had always anticipated from his only son… And in that moment he knew he had failed.

Except in one thing. He had taken away the life source of his son's mutiny. How long before Lex realised the boy wasn't coming back and all the lies and deceit clouded his vision, all the distrust chocked him and smothered him in a fine shield of hate? He knew when Lex finally realised the wicked were meant to be alone the bald wretch would come whimpering back to him under a glamour of indifference.

Lionel turned, flowed out of the room with much less of the grace that he usually possessed. Lex smirked, watched the door close. Before turning to the 'sleeping' computer. He guessed this was where his father would keep anything he had on Clark, after all he hadn't seen his father use a pen for anything other that cheques since he was about five years old. Lex smiled grimly as the screen flickered into life.

-Where would he hide files on someone like Clark Kent… under what name? in what section? Side projects lept out from the list of files that popped up in his father's documents. He clicked the files tentatively, surprised he hadn't yet been asked for a password… Experiments, Luthorcorp, Lexcorp, Paranormal, Barbuda, Colonialism, Machiavellian… The list of side projects varied from the differences between their companies to a strange looking file called Team Sleep. Lex frowned, uncertain of where to go next...

"Hmmmm…. Camera?"

--------

"What seems to be the matter?" Lionel swept into the room, where the first man, the man in white coat was kneeling beside the unconscious form of his precious specimen. His mouth curled nastily over his teeth, there was something angry, almost feral about him as he glared at both doctor and patient.

"He's dying, sir." The doctor could barely muster those few words under Lionel's stare.

"Who says he is?"

The doctor looked flabbergasted at the question alone and spluttered quietly, "Well I do, sir… His pulse is barely there, he's not breathing on his own sir," the feeble man waved a hand over the thin tube that had been forced down Clark throat with a desperate expression crossing over his face, "He's not going to survive unless he get's some proper care."

"It's your job not to let him die." Lionel's voice went deathly calm, the quiet speech almost spat through his teeth.

"Then can I-"

"Do anything you must. He only needs to survive the week. Then we'll finish this little… experiment… for good." The glimmer in his eyes, the insanity of his entrance, faded as he came down to Clark's level. He lifted the lifeless face by the chin, running a finger over the bloodless lips, "So much for the world's conqueror. Pathetic." He let go, letting the head drop back, "Keep him alive doctor. Otherwise his wont be the only body to leave this building in a bag."

--------

Tears stung in the grey eyes, watching and not being able to help… Lex's mansion was silent except for the thrum of his computer as it played his father's movie show. Clark's eyes widening in pain and shock as green liquid was injected into his arm. Clark falling sick and weak to the floor as masked men advanced on him. Clark's perfect mouth widening in a soundless scream, blood spitting out over his lips. Clark as his chest heaved and his eyes glazed and his tears mixed with the blood on his face.

"Clark…"

File after file were now saved on disk, loading on to his computer as he watched in sick fascination the agony and hopelessness on his one-time best friend's face. As he slept and as he had nightmares, as he awoke screaming with terror in his eyes and painful cries shaking his shoulders. Sometimes just the shape of the waking screams could convince Lex that Clark was calling out for him… But he knew that wasn't going to be true.

In disgust he turned from the film to the files. Alien had been the title. Unoriginal as it turned out to be; Lex still felt himself crumble as he understood his friend's secrecy.

_Name: Clark Kent_

_Age: 19_

_Heritage: Alien from planet Krypton_

_Stats: Humanoid. 6'1. Broad shoulders, muscular. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Tanned skin. Five fingers and toes. Appears like a typical human male with similar reactions. _

_Super strength and speed. Shoots fire from eyes. X-ray vision. Hovers. Becomes ill and weak when in the presence of green meteor rock._

_Discovered living in Smallville, apparently aware of powers and biological origin but under secret identity. Fell in meteor shower that caused the mutations in the town._

Lex read, patiently pondering if this was what Clark's lies revolved around entirely? Had Clark been just as scared of rejection and people's prejudices as Lex himself had been? Did the boy blame himself? Was that why he had always run to help the people who were effected? Was that the only reason he had been Lex's friend? Guilt? So many questions and only one person who could answer them… Lex's heart welled up in his throat, knowing in his heart it had been fear and his father that had maintained his silence, and were now the reason for his imprisonment and torture…

Did Martha and Jonathon know? He doubted it… Otherwise there would have been gossip before now... It would probably be best to keep it that way for now… Until Clark was safe, there was no point in worrying the older couple.

"You have to save that kid Lex…" he murmured to himself, "No matter what he is…He'll always be Clark…"

He cringed inwardly as he realised not only had he been talking to himself but at the corniness of his statement. The boy had mad him so soft… But then again it was only for him, no one else would ever make him feel as safe and warm as Clark had.

His lips on mine… That time by the river, alone, perfect. He could remember that taste as he had awoken, the security in Clark's arms and hands. He could imagine those hands playing up and down his body, waking him up, saving him. He could imagine those lips travelling down across his throat to his chest and collarbone. Their hips melding as they became so close and their love, their connection deepening each movement the other made.

"Oh Clark…" He moaned and placed his head on the table. He shouldn't be thinking of this now… He need to save him… Needed to bring him home, "Clark…"

---------

"LEX!"

Clark's eyes snapped open with his scream. He was tied down, panting, sweating and cold… His throat was hoarse, his body felt fragile but not with the same weakness as before. He was so cold… freezing… He glanced feverishly out of the corner of his eye. Dark, greasy hair hung limply over his already blurry vision and the world swayed.

"You're awake…" A face, leering over him in a hazy mass of spectacles and skin swum into view.

The boy cowered away, trying to shift within his bond. Why was he strapped down like this? Where was he?

"You're in Mister Luthor's private room," The man pulled a expression above him, making his nose slide off onto his indistinct second face, "I don't suppose it really matters… You have no say in it."

He had spoken aloud. His eyes seemed to enlarge as his situation sank in. They were going to hurt him again. They were going to cut him open like they had before, "Please…" He rasped, this time hearing his voice, "Don't… Don't…" He no longer sounded like himself. A feeble, gravely voice scratching out across his throat.

The man's features became clearer, his nose settling back on his face and Clark almost thought he recognised him. Dark skin, thin nose… "I don't have any say in it either. I just got to keep you alive."

"Don't…" Clark tried to work more out, "Lex…"

The man moved closer, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm going to knock you out now, son. Lex can't help you now…"

"NO!" Clark shook, pulling away from the man's touch on his head, "You - you don't understand! You don't… you don't…"

"He understands perfectly my dear little space invader." Lionel Luthor, prowled into the room with a slight purr as he saw the wide eyed boy wither into his restraints. The doctor disappeared from view, "He is, after all, the one who will be looking after you so well on Monday."

Clark's eyes dimmed and rolled round in their sockets to glace fearfully at the crinkled doctor. The man had gone rigid, as if in rigor mortis, at Lionel's declaration, "Monday, sir? What's happening on –"

"We finalise our experiments." Lionel bent down very close to the trembling patients ear, "Enjoy these few days of quiet, Mr. Kent; because soon enough, we're going to make your blood burn, take your skin from your bone and see your alien insides. We're going to make your eyes bleed and your power… you're _glorious_ power… We will take it for ourselves."

Pressure fell on Clark's temples and darkness filled his mind, haunted by mocking laughter that tore into his nightmarish dreams.

_---------_

_-You have one new message_ - flashed in black lettering across the small telephonic screen. Lex's brow puckered, this was his private line, the few people who knew it had seen him today. Those people being Lana, the Kents, Chloe and Pete, and Clark… But Clark wouldn't be calling him today. He selected it, holding the phone to his ear… Listening… as latin words filled into his mind. He blinked, instantly turning it back to the beginning so he might listen properly…

"_Mister Luthor, this is Doctor Thomas. I'm a worker of your fathers." _

Did he want to here the rest? Lex's scowl deepened,

"_I have some news that may or may not interest you… After all it's been a few days since you enquired after a Mister Clark Kent in Metropolis, maybe you've already heard… A colleague of mine, Doctor Wilsher recently informed me of an experiment that he has been told he is to perform on a specimen known to us as 'ET' - an alien that appears human. The doctor himself was distraught, he broke down having been told and came to me, in confidence, I might add. I have never spent more than minutes with the specimen myself but having seen Wilsher in such a state, having heard his account of what he is to do… I knew I could not stand by… I've seen so much done to that boy, for a long time now Mister Luthor and… They wanna flay him, sir, take his blood and replace it with a liquidised form of the meteor rock. It'll kill him… Really kill that boy, and that's all he really is and he calls out for you Mister Luthor, I don't know what else I can do but tell you what I know, I can't… can't do anything more..."_

Lex's skin was riddled with goosebumps, could all that this man was saying be true? How much time did they have… before… The voice continued in it's strange Latin sibilance, telling him where the boy was, his condition, how little time there was… The detail of his containment.

"_Leave a message on the Cambridge Latin website under a pseudonym of Salvius if you believe there is any more I can help you with. Just if you can help that poor child… do…" _

The emotion in the stranger's voice made Lex feel numb, the compassion was there, but he was dread to believe that the man was on his side. If this was a trap on his father's part and he fell into it then there would be no end to the hell his life would become. But this could be his only chance to save his angel. He had to grasp at threads so he could make a rope and he would have to pray this strand was strong enough hold him.

"_I've gotta go now Mister Luthor, if you can find the kindness in your heart then you will grant salvation to this boy who so painfully calls your name… Goodbye."  
_

Lex was left with a dead line and his heart thumping in his chest. He looked dazedly at his computer screen. The graphic details of Clark's torture still stared back at him from the screen. Each experiment laced together into a brutal attack on a defenceless child. Dr Thomas was right on one account, Clark was still a boy, still too young to fully understand the world, still innocently naïve. Slowly the cursor went to his internet link… Cambridge Latin only took a moment to load.

--------

Darkness fell with sun as it dropped out of the sky. Men in dark coats and carrying their briefcases either headed for the nearest taxi or followed shadows into the night time world of lights and lust. Lex breathed in the smells of the city, remembering how many times he had staggered the street, uproariously drunk and high as the starry sky above. He remembered gazing into windows and seeing his reflection, alabaster white skin and kohl marked eyes tilting to wish upon the next pill or line he could find.

He smiled, those were good times, numb times, when he had felt alive within a dying shell. Then he _had_ died… and lived again… Thanks to the boy trapped inside the onyx obelisk piercing through the flaring lights. You couldn't see through the darkened glass windows, couldn't enter without a pass.

"Mister Luthor." A voice came from behind him, paler than on the phone, but still as recognisable, "I'm glad you came…" Though not a little surprised apparently. Lex loved being able to read people. He was a master of masks, any open emotion became transparent to a person such as himself.

"Lex." The younger man said with a reserved smirk, "I'm not my father, Dr Thomas."

"Yes… Quite…" The man seemed flustered, his eyes darting backwards and forwards between Lex and the building rising above the masses not so far away.

"I hope you're not lying to me, Thomas, I hate being lied to." Lex whispered, the threat spoken with a deceptive innocence.

"I'm not lying Mist- Lex… I couldn't… Not after…" The man's eyes reached out to his, "That boy's been destroyed… He was so strong…"

"Then get me in there so I can help him." He leant forward slightly, imploringly… The man's thick eyebrows knitted together over his small, squinting eyes. Lex realised then that there was no way he could walk into that building with detection. "I can't can I?"

"No… You need retina and fingerprint identification. You can't get in there." Doctor Thomas shuffled his feet slightly over the dirty pavement, "I thought maybe I could get him out… If you'd only create a big enough distraction… I thought maybe… Maybe if you could pretend to be someone else and try and break in…. or hire someone… then I could get him out in the commotion and you could take him away from here… But-" Now the doctor began to look ashamed, "But I won't do anything unless you do something for me too."

Lex had seen it coming. He knew no one did anything if it didn't help themselves in the long run. It was a business manoeuvre, planned and payable.

"Save me from your father too." That wasn't so expected, "Send me somewhere he can't get me anymore…" Desperation laced the man's voice and eyes.

Lex pitied him but he nodded leisurely, "I could have a plane leaving from Metropolis airport going anywhere in the world at a word. I can guarantee your safe passage… As long as you provide his. Deal?"

The doctor accepted the proffered hand. Their touch sealed two fates and left one hanging in a tenuous balance between them.

"Give me an hour." Lex smirked, pulling away from the white-coats presence and turning to vanish out into the city's overwhelming darkness.

--------

The strange hospital room was silent. Clark's eyes fluttered open, their azure glow diminished by the green rock by his side. His mouth was open in a silent plea and he could feel his heart in his chest. He could hear someone so close by that he wanted to turn and look, the clatter of metal on a surface near to his feet made him flinch but it was s all he could do. He was so weak he no longer knew if his body was even able to work any more… the sickness seemed so permanent and the pain ever more omnipresent.

Lex was never going to come… No one was ever going to help him… Sometimes he could almost imagine the silvery grey glow of the overcast winter sky that he tried to believe was brighter outside the dense walls of his white cage. He couldn't remember his parent's face, the way his mother spoke or his father's encouraging hand… He knew he had pushed them away when he'd become Kal-el… He knew it and knew he deserved what was happening to him… So the grey sky pealing over his imagination failed and he came back to rest in leather bonds…

A whining noise pierced the air. The bustling stopped and feet ran to a door that swung shut behind it with a slam.

People were shouting.

People were running. The faint scent of smoke threaded into his nose.

And someone was throwing the green rock away from the room down the corridor. His hearing had sharpened and his limbs… he could feel his fingers, his feet…

"Can you walk if I help you?" A smooth voice whispered into his ear, hands were fumbling with the buckled straps across his chest, his arms, his legs… "I'm going to get you home, kiddo."

"Home?" he mumbled faintly as thin arms wound themselves around his wasted chest and lifted him upwards. He could almost feel the poison in his veins, the green vial's contents making him malleable in this stranger's grip. He staggered with the support, legs unable to keep up the pace. No one looked their way. Not the doctors nor the faceless men in suits. People wanted to escape the tendrils of smoke that were rising from the cracks beneath closed doors.

Half staggering, half dragged Clark was in a daze, his eyes were foggy and sore, his vision spinning madly about him. There were men scurrying with masks on their faces and blood across their clothes. There were rooms with gaping doors and strange faces he half recognised hanging in oozing red liquids. There were shouts that he could hear for miles. He couldn't make out the words of his rescuer. Everything was drowning in the mass of churning, running bodies and negative images made by them. Was this a joke?

Thought became clearer the more he moved away from the room but his strength was not back, not yet. He managed to walk with less and less falls but knew that something was wrong. Where were they now? Corridor after corridor, steps after steps, door after door… Darkness was clouding his waking senses, snapping over his eyes.

"You don't want to see this…" the man whispered. Clark whimpered, the blindfold torturing his mind as he smelt the scent of blood and gore on the surfaces of this latest room. His eyes flashed into X-ray and back and he fell aimlessly towards the door they seemed to be heading too. He could see the knives, the vials of blood, the x-ray portraits through his miserable eyes and he tried not to scream. This was here they had cut him open… He knew it was….

"I'm sorry…"

They staggered together down the next corridor… down and out… out into cool night air. Clark was allowed to see as soon as they were away from the room and tears had pricked in his eyes. The black alleyway was deserted but the slight breeze ripped at his semi-naked body. Gasping at the gentle touch of freedom, he shivered slightly… The stars were blocked by the lights streaming out of the city but he could remember them being up there now…

"This way, kiddo." The arm lead him towards the next road and he hobbled as fast as he could with the other man.

"Where…" He croaked as they made it out, diving into the shadow of the buildings so to hide their escape.

"Just down here… Just around the corner." The man had a scared expression on his face, picking up the pace a s he glanced behind them. He was afraid of being followed too… He knew they would both be taken back if they were caught. Clark trembled.

"Don't let them catch us…" He said as loud as he could, his voice shaking, "Don't…"

The man looked at him for a second, still supporting him as they rounded the corner, "Don't ask me. Ask your saviour."

The sleek form of a car snoozed in the silent street, a silhouette lounging on its side. The man stopped. The profile turned out of the shadow and emerged in the light. Cool grey eyes became concerned, flawless alabaster face sinking into a furrowed, worried expression.

"L… Le… Lex…" Clark stammered, tears trickling down his face. This was a dream… another cruel creation of his imagination… He mumbled and his support left him to sink into the open embrace of his best friend. He began to sob, hating himself more and more for letting himself dream like this… He should have known it was too good… Too real to be true…

"Shhh…" Lex soothed into his ear, "Hush it's ok… I'm here now." The smooth, gentle caress travelled through his body, "It's gonna be alright…"

Clark's leg gave in and Lex lifted him to the car, "Stay here angel. I'll be two minutes…"

Clark waited to wake up. Lex always disappeared now, always left him behind in reality. He reached for the leaching hand, "I don't want to wake up…" He begged, his sobs making him snuffle.

"You're not going to." Lex smiled gently, that special smile Clark had only ever seen for him, "I'll be right back."

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He was in a worse condition than he had expected, Lex carefully shut the door to the limo so Clark didn't have to hear him as he gave Dr Thomas his flight tickets and details. A new passport which was really a carefully constructed fabrication on the truth and then the information on where he was going this week and the week after.

"After that it's up to you Doctor." He smiled slightly, "Thank you for what you've done."

The man nodded, "I couldn't let him just die…" The compassion was so false, the lie so perfectly old even Lex wanted to believe it… But he didn't.

"Yes you could. And you would have if you hadn't realised his connection to me." Lex replied, smile vanishing, "Go Mr Thom. I've an angel to look after now."

The Doctor's face grew cold and he tuned abruptly, stalking into the open road. Lex turned away, knowing that waiting for him was the boy who's eyes had shattered and who's heart he would have to mend.

**WHOO HOO well that's it for this chapter, thank you for the reviews I've already received, I hope you guys continue to enjoy it and that it wasn't to nasty to the poor little paper doll! Anywhoodle there's more to come so who knows what will happen next… I think we may spend some time with the duo for a while in Smallville and then head over to Switzerland for some mountain fun! Adios chicklets and chickadees!**

**Matt xxx**

Chapter Two - Tainted Love


	3. Tainted Love

**Glass Hearts**

Chapter Two - Tainted Love

**Righty - O Chapter Two is here me lovelies! I'm hoping it'll do wondrously but the likelihood is minimal. Sorry for the mammoth delay too I feel so bad about it! Don't own the characters just the story and any people like the Doctor ect. Includes nastiness at points I'm afraid, a nightmare or two, some angst… Anywhoodle on we go!**

Three weeks since he had rescued Clark, three long windy weeks where Clark would cower from his touch or fling himself into Lex's embrace. There was no in-between, no half way stop. Lex could see fear so transparent on his angel's face that it nearly broke him. There was too much horror trapped in the blue eyes for smiles to crack through the months of torture.

Three precious weeks since Clark had been brought out of his father's sight. Lionel had no idea what had happened to the boy and Lex knew that it was breaking the perfect deception of his father's sanity. Lex sat comfortably in his red suede chair as Clark lay curled in sleep on the bed. With a slight smile Lex watched the peace on they young man's face… so innocent at rest… Still so perfectly innocent… Putting Clark to bed had become a habit. Ever since that first night…

God that night had been…

Frightening…

Lex stepped into the car, murmuring to the driver to take him home as fast as possible. Clark was huddled into the seat, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped tightly about them. Gently Lex brushed his fingers across one hand, "Clark, look at me angel."

Clark's eyes were almost black in his semi-poisoned, terrified condition. The blood from his head wounds was dry on his forehead and cheeks, bruises spilt like blueberry juice across his skin seemed to be moving and throbbing in front of him.

"Is this real?" Clark's voice was faint and tremulous. Almost inaudible over the purr of the car, "You're really here?"

Lex smiled, flashing Clark a part of himself that he never showed anyone else, "Of course I am. You can feel me can't you?" He traced his fingers over Clark's arms and up his neck.

Clark nodded nearly imperceptibly, "But you've left so many times… You left me…"

"I wouldn't ever do that to you. Not in reality. I'm going to take you home, we'll see your parents, get you happy again…"

There was no recognition on the words, no acknowledging flicker, Clark recoiled slightly though and Lex knew that once again he was out of the loop.

He moved closer to Clark, wrapping his arms about him and noting that the boy didn't flinch from his touch but leaned into him, the small shudders in his body making the suppressed tears all too obvious to Lex.

"Let it out," he whispered softly, gently, soothingly, "We're going to make you safe Clark. You're not going back."

The fragility of his once Herculean saviour as he cried in his arms tore at Lex's heart. His arms woven around the battered form and Clark's once strong grip clinging onto him as if letting go would destroy him. There was a weakness to Clark that he had never seen before, hopeless and falling into a darkness that Lex had only seen in dirty mirrors and broken glass. Like glass… Glass…

The dark haired boy was curled into him for the rest of that journey. Lex rubbed circles on his shuddering shoulders, ran soothing patterns down his spine. Clark was a mess and Lex couldn't tell if it was because of what had happened or because the boy believed that it would happen again once he woke up. Even as the tears subsided and stillness came to the broken body Clark buried himself in Lex's warmth and the billionaire was only too happy to oblige.

As they drove up the long drive to the manor Clark seemed to have calmed at least a little. Lex guessed that it was simply Clark trying to find a solace in what must seem an 'unbelievable' dream. They spoke little, the older man whispering occasional words of comfort where as the boy expressed only the heart wrenching whimpers of the oppressed.

"Here we go…" Lex said softly as they pulled up outside the great oak doors. Of all the manor they were the most forbearing feature, weathered but still powerful and Lex loved them because they kept the world out.

Malik opened the door for them with a tentative smile at the pair before his eyes welled with that same pity that once had been shown for Lex himself.

"Thanks…" Lex looped Clark's arms about his neck, lifting him in a bridal position, into his hold. "Can you tell Marion to make ready a small meal, soup or something else easy? I'll take him to his room."

Malik nodded. Just like all the times the boy had personally brought vegetables from his parents farm to give to the staff and Lex; for all the times that the battered child had made Lex happy and alive… The staff loved him, he was more one of them than Lex but in many ways he bridged the muddy waters, everyone had been able to see a difference in their young master since Clark's appearance.

Turning inside, Lex carried the light weighted youth upstairs. He tried not to be shocked at Clark's malnourished body but couldn't help it. The boy was too thin, too bony for Lex to even struggle with him. He wasn't going to complain, he liked helping Clark, but it was dreadful to be able to feel the hard thrust of bones through the thin covering on his boy.

"I can get your parents if you want them here." Lex murmured as he took the boy up the stairs and through the doors to his specially made room. Gently he set him on the bed. Clark was sitting tentatively, knees habitually drawn up to his chest… But the blue eyes never left Lex's, the tear stained lashes seemed to make his eyes shimmer.

"Don't…" Clark shook his head slightly, wincing as he did so, "They don't need to know…"

Lex placed himself beside the boy, "Look, Clark, they will need to know eventually…" he tried to touch his friend's shoulder but he flinched away, burying his face in his arms.

"No!"

Lex knew better than to pressure him, "Well this'll be your room then… It's adjacent to mine so if you need me I'm either through that door," he waved his hand at a panel in the wall, "Or you can just call me. I've set up this place with an intercom system so if you need me just place you hand on the dressing table for at least three seconds and I'll be able to hear you."

Clark nodded slightly, tilting his face so he could see Lex, "This is really happening isn't it."

Lex smiled. The realisation hit Clark and he saw his eyes flickering between the Clark he saw now and the one he had known. Lex reminded himself that the boy would need to see Lorenzo, after all he knew that the injuries, though not much worse externally than he had ever received, probably were inflicted internally too and there was no other doctor Lex would trust than Lorenzo.

"Why don't you have a shower, by the time you get out I'm sure something will have been prepared for you to eat." Lex brushed a strand of the matted hair out of Clark's face, "There's an adjoining bathroom…"

Clark nodded, "Thank you."

The gratitude in the voice made Lex feel warm inside, no one had ever thanked him like that before… No one had ever given him a chance to help them. Clark made it to the bathroom on his own. Made it inside on his own. Lex even heard the shower going on and the murmur of the generator working it's magic. He was about to go through to his room to change his clothes when he first heard a thud. He paused, looked at the door of Clark's bathroom, heard the scream rise from the thundering water.

"Shit!"

The door opened into the steamy room, slamming into the wall on the other side. Wide, grey eyes peered through the haze to the form in the misted shower. Lex dashed across, the scream had petered a little but it was still unearthly, tormented. Clark's naked form was a wreck, littered with bruises, blood stains, scars; he was bent into the wall, head knocking against the side. Lex reached out to the boy, only to find himself flung back through the air. So some of his strength was coming back… even through the throb of his own pain Lex tried to see the positive.

"Don't… Don't come near me… Don't touch me! …. P…pl…please…. Oh stop…."

Painful, desperate whimpers came out of the resounding scream. Lex crept more tentatively to his friend's side, "I'm going no where." He reached out one hand, gently brushing strands of the wet hair from his friend's face.

Clark began to whimper, "Please… I don't know anything else! Stop! Please!" But whimpers turned to cries, which again turned into screams.

Lex felt Clark lash out again, trying to fight off the demons that were tormenting him. Staggering away from the wall he had been battered into again, he found his way back to the now silent form of Clark. He was completely motionless, body sagged into the wall, lifeless. Tears sprung into Lex's eyes as he once again was faced with the ravages of his father's work… What a masterpiece that monster had created this time… He was probably gutted now he had lost what was undoubtedly his finest canvas.

He turned the taps off, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the fragile body of his best friend. So fragile… The clear white towel contrasted dramatically with the contusions and abrasions and Lex felt anger leaching into his veins. Gently he lifted Clark, taking the boy back into his room before tucking him into the sheets. Lex perched on the bed, noticing the paleness of the beautiful face, the innocence that was inevitably lost in the day seeming to fall over his face in unconsciousness. He seemed so enviably pure with his eyes closed… Because his desperate, wronged eyes were hidden…

The door opened and Magda, one of the maids, was there carrying a tray of soup and warm bread. Lex put a finger to his lips, not wanting the boy to be unearthed too abruptly from sleep and she nodded silently at his command. They would need Lorenzo even sooner than he had anticipated so he voiced it in a whisper to the sad eyed woman.

"Don't tell him who needs him until I'm there though… I don't want any word of Clark's whereabouts spreading…" Lex gave the girl a resigned smile, "It's far too dangerous…"

"Don't worry Master Lex, we all anticipated that this was no public affair and have arranged for this part of the house to be sectioned if anyone is to visit." She beamed, even though the comfort of her smile did not take away all the concern from her face. Lex had been right, Clark was very much a part of the household, without even trying.

"Thank you."

Lex sat back in his chair, trying to remove the memory from his mind. He could still see the terror on Clark's face, hear his screams echoing in his mind and it hurt him even then… Now he wouldn't leave until Clark had been sleeping for at least an hour or two because he was afraid of the nightmare visions coming back. He knew Clark slept better when he was around to see him to bed because he also knew that being alone reminded him of the vulnerability that he had felt in the hands of Lionel Luthor.

"N..no…" Nonsensical words rose from the form in the bed. Sheets had twisted about Clark, "D…don…"

This always happened… Lex took one hand gently in his own and just held it, slowly running his thumb over the back, soothing the boy that was still suffering sleep.

"Lex…." Clark's lips were moving over the word repeatedly now and his mentor knew this had never happened before, "Don… leaf…"

Clark was dreaming. He always dreamed. Every night. Every time he closed his eyes and succumbed to the darkness.

He could see himself in a dark room. Completely dark. The whole world was black except for outline of a door which flickered with shadows outside it. Light trying to filter threw and failing. He curled into himself, not knowing where the walls were, not knowing who else could be in there.

"Lex?" he called out into the dark, "Chloe?" she wasn't dead… he knew she wouldn't abandon him… she was still out there… "Pete?"

No one.

Trembling he buried his head in his knees. Words were echoing back out him. Names turned into words by the Dark. Monster. Wretch. Faggot. Worthless… Scum… The darkness was hissing at him, snarling into his ear, standing over his shoulder and waiting for him. Waiting and wanting to trap him in it's nightmares. Clark shook. Numbness was spreading through out his body, he was scared and alone…

Something squeezed his hand.

Someone was squeezing his hand. Trying not to hope for a miracle he opened one eye. There wasn't a nightmare this time… Only calm grey eyes looking into his own. Clark opened both eyes and Lex started to fade away.

"Don't leave me…" he tried to reach for the hand again but it was pulled away angrily by the man who was smiling at him, "Please. LEX!" He was screaming now. The fading man disappearing completely, "Don't leave…"

But he was gone.

And the nightmares were there in front of his eyes that Lex had opened and they were crawling into him. Digging claws into his irises, putting dark tunnels through his mind and taking him directly into the river of pallid shades that he was drowning in. He could not move. He could not scream. He felt tears sting in his eyes but he could not let them fall. Paralysis pushed him into a submission he didn't want to understand. He waited for the merciless memories to pull him below the surface of sanity. Lionel's laughter was echoing through his mind, guffawing at his weakness.

"Please…" He felt his breathing becoming difficult as he became tangled in straps and chains that became tighter by the second.

But no one was going to help him. No one could.

Lex tightened his hold on the limp hand in his own. The room had gone silent. Too silent. Clark's body was wrapped tightly in his sheets and the still frail body was rolling slightly from side to side, rocking like a maltreated child. Then the whimpers started again with their nonsensical language screaming out to Lex exactly what was running through his friend's mind.

"Lex…"

"He's not coming. You are nothing to him. He never liked you, not really. You were the pathetic, wretched creature that blemished his day. Lex never could love you. He doesn't know how." Lionel's words were soft in his ears as they kicked in his ribs, as they belted his wrists and ankles, as they blindfolded his eyes, stuck needles into his skin, and he screamed.

Lex still did not know exactly how to react. His heart, splitting in two, was full of desire to wake him up, but Lorenzo had said not too… So what… what could he do? Clark's body was arching upwards in the painful embrace of his memory, screaming. Screaming… Always the screaming. He had seen this so many times and Lorenzo had never let him… But Lorenzo wasn't there this time. Tentatively he pulled Clark to him, unsure of what would happen.

Writhing in his arms, Lex feared that Clark's strength would emerge… If it did he knew… But Clark was calming. He was slowly beginning to stop thrashing and Lex relaxed slightly, watching with slight intrigue as the screwed up expression on the dark hair beauty relaxed.

"It's ok Clark…" He found himself whispering to his friend, "I'm here… You're safe…"

The needles were gone, someone was holding him protectively against the dark, against the glowering Lionel that was still watching, sneering at whoever it was who was there. Clark nuzzled into the embrace, trying to block out the visions in his brain.

"I'm here. It's ok. You're safe." It was Lex.

"You came back." He mumbled into the warmth he knew was his beloved saviour. Clark curled closer, blocking out Lionel and his contorted face completely. Smiling ever so slightly at being so close to the younger Luthor… Because he loved Lex and in his dreams… Lex loved him too.

Lex was asleep when Lorenzo dropped by the bedroom to check on the patient as he did every night before he went to bed. Accustomed to seeing Lex in his chair he was surprised to see the too younger men wrapped in each others embrace. The doctor smiled slightly, not failing to notice the protective way Clack was wrapped in Lex's arms, the way Clark's body was curled into the slender form of his employer.

Lorenzo smiled slightly, Lex had always held the boy to his heart. He knew that. Who didn't know that? In the past when ever Clark was expected Lex became a happier man. A less troubled man. Now whenever Clark was mentioned there was that cloud of sadness and concern for him reflected beneath Lex's carefully glazed eyes. It was a tainted love… One full of pain and lies and scars… Both had drowned in the terror of the elder Luthor and both still need to be saved. Prehaps this was was their salvation?

Quietly and silently Lorenzo left them, a strange twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips.

**fin chapter.**


	4. Fix You

Chapter Three - Fix You

**Wow… Chapter Three… Has it come out quicker? Must say the brainwave of a certain scene comes from fan, totally inspirational! Guess which one? **

Lex awoke with a stiff neck. He didn't want to open his eyes yet though… he was comfortable and warm and for once it seemed he'd slept for enough hours to make him feel normal… He moved his head gently, aware of his aching muscles and the warm weight in his arms. With a yawn he prised his eyes open, squinting in the dim spring light that was filtering through the small gap in the dark blue curtains. He smiled slightly and closed his eye again… He ran his own business he had no reason to get up too soon…. Wait… He opened his eyes again. Blue curtains? That was when he realised where he was.

Clark's peaceful form took him by surprise. The boy was curled into his chest, head tucked just under his chin, on the hollow of his collar bone… The complete calm on his face spoke of wonders… Lex smiled fully this time, his true smile, the one he kept for himself and Clark alone… No one else could turn his expression like Clark could and at that moment, with warm breaths tickling through his crumpled shirt Lex only wanted to share his happiness at this different boy asleep in his arms.

Thick, dark hair fell across his face and Lex found himself propping himself up and running his fingers through the luxurious waves, wondering at the silky feel of it slipping across his hands. This was the angel he remembered… albeit thinner and slightly more mature of face but still… right there, right then… there was no sign of his father.

"Don't stop…" Clark was leaning into his hand, eyes still closed in a contented smile and Lex had to struggle not to laugh. Slowly he started over again, tracing unsymmetrical patterns through the floppy bangs. A small sigh of comfort as the warm body shifted unconsciously closer to him brought in the sun… Perhaps he could still help Clark… Perhaps… He could still save him… Or at least he could try.

"Clark," He said in a voice just above a whisper, "it's probably time we got up…" In truth he had no idea of the time but seeing as the previous night was possibly the first time either of them had slept for more than a few hours consecutively he estimated that the hour made to fairly late.

The boy merely moaned slightly and pouted. If this was how it would always be with Clark waking up in the morning then Lex could think of nothing more adorable… If only this hadn't been such a… mistake… But it hadn't been a mistake had it? Not really… He had been able to protect Clark from his demons. That had to be worth something? Right?

"But it's so warm here…" Clark was still half asleep as he slurred his words in Lex's chest.

It was almost painful to pull away from the perfectly aligned body and bring himself to stand by the bed. Clark gave a disgruntled grumble, eyes squinting in the semi-light of the room. They focused on Lex, widened and he shot up, "That wasn't a dream…" he muttered mostly to himself.

"No. Not a dream." Lex smiled gently. Seeing Clark's uneasiness, realising he had been right… This had been one incurable mistake. He had been so wrong to let Clark wake up like that… What if… What if Clark was about to freeze up on him again? What if he panicked or- Lex realised he was the one panicking. Clark was merely looking up at him from the rumpled sheets.

"You were really there." Clark murmured, this time, to whom the words were for was lost entirely.

"I'll always be there…" Lex dared to answer after silence fell.

At that moment Lex felt out of place, out of sorts in his own home. Something about this boy from the stars made him feel so much more aware of himself. Of his body. Of the rumpled clothes he had slept in and the paleness of his skin. Of the dirtiness he still felt over his entire form… He shivered slightly.

"Don't get cold." Clark said then, the flippant, normal words making Lex look up and catch the still sleepy eyes.

"Come on," Lex smiled, realised that he'd been doing that a lot that morning and let it spread across his face, before holding out a hand to the other man.

With a yawn and a tiny, disgruntled moan Clark took the hand and found himself once more in Lex's embrace. He still felt ill, according to Dr. Lorenzo the krypton that had been injected into his blood would take longer to cure as, like a poison, the regularity at which they had been administered meant that there would have been a build up in his system… So despite having regained much of his strength he remained an invalid. Sickly and unable to help himself with many things that before would never have phased him. Lex held him gently, rubbing circles at the bottom of his neck as he regained his balance.

"Th-thank you…" Clark said softly.

Lex only nodded and asked if Clark wanted to dress or find food first. Of course he already knew the answer. Clark wouldn't make a decision for himself. It was still drummed into him that his opinion, his voice was worthless. So after a moment of pause after the predicted answer, Lex opted for dressing. He hated being untidy, not looking as perfect as he could. His father hadn't stood for it and nor did he… Or maybe that was just one of the lessons that had been drilled into him so early on that he'd forgotten when. He wasn't sure.

Clark sat sadly on the bed as Lex left him so that they could both get into something day-wear esq. He didn't want him to go. He didn't like being alone. Being alone made you vulnerable. He'd had enough of being vulnerable and yet he still felt it. Heat stung in his eyes as he made for the small cupboard of clothes that Lex had bought for him, having realised that none of his old stuff would fit on his now too slender frame.

He felt bad for being such a burden on his best friend… He felt ashamed for having not realised that Lex had been really holding him, for not letting the man go when he had so obviously been uncomfortable. Why did he have to be so stupid? He had always been stupid though… He had never been very good at anything. Except causing disasters and destroying people's lives, like he had Lana's and Lex's and his parents and all those others…

A few tears slipped from his eyes as he slid into a pair of loose jeans that Lex had approved of and a simple black t-shirt with FCUK branded onto one shoulder. Tentatively, he stepped in front of the long mirror in the door of the cupboard and tried to see himself in his reflection. Even now, with the careful feeding of Lex's staff, he was gaunt, frail looking even. He pushed his hair out of his face and smiled slightly to himself, Chloe would have laughed at him, his bangs were long enough to make him seem almost emo. He would never have been thought of like that by anyone… Nerdy, dorky… He remembered that… But Chloe had always mocked the moody, emotive cliques for their apparent attention seeking antics.

"Nice choice there," Lex was back, eyes gently showing approval, "You look like yourself when you're dressed more normally. At least as normal as you can without wearing flannel."

He tried to appreciate the joke but instead, blue eyes dropped to the floor, finding his bare feet fascinating all of a sudden because he knew that he looked like half a person. He certainly couldn't pull off looking good in clothes such as this. Unlike Lex… Lex was always immaculate. Even when he'd woken up in his crumpled suit he had looked fascinatingly unblemished. Perhaps it was just him… Perhaps Lex just was… perfect.

Then there was another pair of toes facing his and firm hands on his shoulders, he flinched slightly, unable to help himself, but he brought his eyes up slightly knowing that Lex would be angry. Trying to apologise, Clark voided looking into Lex's eyes. He didn't want to see disappointment or anger or hate. He knew that his friend didn't hate him, why was he even thinking these things? He whimpered slightly. Two fingers tipped his face so that he was looking up into the soft, silver eyes of his saviour.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Clark, you know that…" the gaze was questioning now, "So why… why do you fear me?"

He jumped at this, startled by the hurt that was laced into the otherwise neutral words, "I'm not scared." He attempted, weakly, "I…I'm not-t afraid of you…"

"Then why are you shaking, angel?" One of Lex's cool fingers gently traced the outline of his cheek, running the tip over his lips slightly, before dropping to his side. There was something in his look that opened Clark's tongue.

"I'm not scared of you," He whispered weakly, "I'm scared of letting you down. I don't want you to leave me again…" Tears threatened to fall and he could picture Chloe mocking him from afar. She had known how he felt about Lex from the beginning; she had known what he had not right from the very start. Now she'd be laughing, not only at his pathetic wheedling but at the puppy eyes that were looking up into grey, pleadingly.

"You could never let me down, cherie."

Lex pulled him close, feeling the sharp contours of his best friend's body; the jut of his hip bone, the rise and fall of his ribs, the shoulder blades that he passed his hands over. This boy should have wings, he wondered absently as Clark clung to him. He was meant to fly, meant to be free.

_But he's not. _Whispered a little voice in his head. _And whose fault is that?_

Lex pulled back, letting Clark step away, warily glancing up from time to time as if he believed this show of affection would turn around and throw him to the floor. Absently, he wondered if the boy's parents would know how to handle it… If they could stop Clark from edging away in terror whenever someone entered their rooms… Maybe they could do what he couldn't because they were not direct relations of the monster that had shredded his soul.

Praying today was not to be a day of screaming misery, Lex decided to ask; he needed to know, they all needed to know what was going on if they were to help and surely so did his parents, "Clark, don't you think it's time we saw your parents?... Told them you're alive…?"

Clark froze. Face paling even further. Then slowly he shook his head, "No." He said, shaking his head more, "No. No…" His hands crept to his neck, as if searching for a mark there, panicking, "No point… No… No point at all…" Tears had sprung from beneath clenched lids.

Shit. Lex darted to the other's side. This wasn't a good move, "Shhh… Clark…Clark it's ok…" He reached out, trying to pry the hands off of the pale throat but the quaking form jerked away, crumpling into a heap of bones on the carpet.

"Angel, what is it?" Lex hated sounding so demanding, loathed and abhorred having to try and force sense out of his friend, "Please, I can't help if I don't know…"

"Don't tell them I'm here… Don't tell them… Don't let them…" Clark was trying to calm himself, trying to breath more steadily, but his hands were still scrambling with the flesh above his collarbone.

"Tell me why. They love you -"

"No they don't!" The shout was pained, choked out through the flurry of worry, "They can't."

And it was tearing into Lex because Clark seemed to so genuinely believe that the miserable parents that had mooched around town with tears sprinkled in their eyes, didn't and couldn't love him. Why? Surely he must understand how worried, how forlorn, how despondent they had been in his absence…

"They do love you, angel," he started more softly now, seizing the moment as Clark stopped muttering to start his own conversation, "They always have done. Without you they were nothing, Clark. They've only just started to smile again. Just begun to wash away the tears-"

"Then why did they give me to him?" The question was only a whisper, only just perceptible.

He couldn't have heard that right. This couldn't be right. What was Clark implying, "They gave you to whom?" Lex didn't know if he really wanted to know… If he was thinking right...

"_Him. _Lio-" The name was too hard to say and the slight form curled tighter, one hand clamped on a spatter of small scars that had not quite healed completely.

"They gave you to Lionel…" Lex didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that the couple he had grown to respect had destroyed the enviable love that had coursed between them. Martha and Jonathon had betrayed their own son. The son that was now sobbing helplessly into his knees; desperate to be healed, deserving to be held and heeded to; they had given that all up. For what? Why? "Why?" The word had slipped, without any tack to the task, from his mouth.

Clark jerked violently as if a Carthaginian elephant was walking over his grave, "I… I don't know…" He whispered, shivering, "Don't know…"

"You do know." Lex could feel shreds of anger rising, impatience trying to overcome his logic which told him to keep calm, "Clark, tell me."

"No!" His friend shouted, defiance cowering into shame, "I can't say. I'm too dirty…"

"Dirty? How so?" Lorenzo's voice entered their sick equation, taking the words straight from Lex's mouth, but saying them so gently they seemed like warm milk slipping from his lips, comforting and smooth.

"I'm dirty." Clark was mumbling but the words could be caught from the lines of incoherence, "I think so many dirty things. So disgusting."

Lex recoiled, trying to comprehend, trying to begin to imagine how much hatred must have been present in the Kents' for this to have happened to their son. Hadn't he been envious when he'd seen their tender embrace after the man with the terrible shakes had tried to kill them all? Hadn't he been jealous of the home Clark had to return to, despite the luxuries of his mansion? Hadn't he coveted what Clark had with his parents, lusted after the love that Clark showed them? Now here it all was, splintering respect striking the ground with a thud.

"Because I thought bad things. Bad things about people and god doesn't like it. He doesn't like love. He doesn't like my love. Because I'm dirty and wrong and it's so wrong and so dirty and wrong…wrong wrong wrongwrongwrong…" It wasn't all discernable… He didn't like what he was hearing, what Lorenzo was wrenching through little pretences of security out of the fallen boy.

"And is it because of your heritage?" Lorenzo was soothing with his tone, prying deeper with his words, "What is so dirty? What were your thoughts? Does it seem natural to you?"

Clark didn't understand why his parents hated him. Hated him when he had found someone who he loved more desperately than he could put into words. Why didn't they want him to be happy? They didn't mind when he liked Lana… He knew it was different because they had trusted Lana, known her since she was little but they hadn't minded his short fling with one of the travellers that had by passed their home either… Jor-El hadn't minded… He had been satisfied… But Jonathon hated it. Despised it. Hit him and then hit him harder, knowing Clark wouldn't retaliate because he wouldn't understand. Martha had wrapped her fingers about his neck and locked a lump of green kryptonite about his throat. Choking him. Making him asphyxiate almost to the point that he was no longer breathing. Blearily he had heard the words telling him to repent. To give it up. That he could make it right if he wanted. But he couldn't say that he didn't love who he did. He was in love. Truly. Blindly. Miserably. In love… Martha begged him to atone for his sin. But he couldn't so it just kept on happening and happening and happening and then… then she beseeched him to give it up but even if he had… Jonathon was on the phone. Answering questions with truths that had been kept secret for the best part of seventeen years. He was only seventeen… And then there was wintry, whinging wind and merciless chills crawling over him with the delicate legs of spiders. He was on the side of a road, dumped carelessly by the man he trusted more than anyone else, weakening and wearing away in a slight ditch… And then Lionel had come. His red hair streamed out around his face in a bloody halo. And Lionel had looked with those cold, smirking eyes at the wreck that had become him. And it was all so blurry. So weak and pathetic and he was always dirty and Lionel told him that he was there to free him of the filth.

"Free me… He said so…"

"WHO FREED HIM?" The deafening roar reverberated around to every aching ear, "WHICH PLEBIAN FREED MY EXPERIMENT!?"

No one moved, the assembled crowd were stiff and emotionless, trying hard not to meet the gaze of their employer. The doctors were Lionel's prime suspects… So far no one had mentioned the fact that one of their number was missing and so far three more people had been killed by suspicion. No one was going to talk… Because everyone knew that no matter what they said there would be no respite from his anger. Each of them would be homeless in seconds, helpless in moments, disposed of within a year and it was inevitable. Why take a hero down with them? At least that was what they had decided on the night of the escape. And despite the constant, never ending rages and the miserable interrogation that just went on and on and on and on… no one had snapped yet. Because Lionel had never had any of the room's respect, not when it came to the Kent boy and certainly not when it came to his disappearance.

"Now, I understand that some of you must be very disappointed. An entirely different species was right here. A discovery waiting to be told to the world. But all that research has gone now is it not?" Lionel's tone dropped into a dangerous dulcet tone, "Very disappointed…"

It was true. Many of them had been excited about the unearthing of an alien on this planet. Many of them had been enthralled with the concept that life really was out there. But all had been disgusted by the torture, the meaningless pain inflicted upon an intelligent being. It wasn't right. And even those who had not been privy to the details still looked upon it with contempt because they still heard the rumours. Of days when they'd extracted blood only to refill the vein with boiling kryptonite solution; of times when a young boy had been sliced open, his internal organs examined, whilst he was still conscious and under the influence of the green rock. Brutality… the epitome of their master.

They were only stalling… Lionel would find out in the end… But they would hold their tongues because integrity at this point was the last inch that any of them truly had… and even that was thin.

Lex held the broken form close to his chest, cradling the shuddering body as Clark drifted of into an escapist sleep. He would never let him go… He never wanted to let him go. Lorenzo was watching from his position, leaning on the chest of drawers demurely.

"This is much more messed up than I first thought…" The good doctor said, voice level, "I do believe that to undo the stripes of torture may even be the easier of our problems."

"But-"

"Did you listen to his testimony, Lex?" Lorenzo was obviously not too pleased with Lex's demeanour, "He doesn't understand that he didn't do anything wrong. He thinks that he must deserve it."

"But he doesn't! He-"

Lorenzo scowled and waved a hand for silence, "The transition from complete love into complete hate has broken him. That's the point Lex. Not whatever is running through your head. Don't you remember how you used to melt into every single physical touch-"

Lex stiffened, all praise Lorenzo for his bluntness, "How could I forget."

With a sigh the doctor approached the now sedate form in his employer's arms, "I just want you to keep it straight in your head that no matter how you feel towards the boy you can't let it interfere; Clark Kent is a beaten child much the same as-"

"You think I'd hurt him?" Lex could feel the surface anger bubbling again.

"No. I don't think you'd hurt him, not intentionally at any rate, but you could fix him up only to break him again if you get too close before either of you are ready."

The pair of them were glaring at each other. Theirs had always been a volatile relationship, Lex never quite recovering from Lorenzo's forceful extraction of all his secrets when he was younger, Lorenzo just being the sarcastic, well meaning bastard that Lex loved him for as much as he hated him.

"So what does the doctor prescribe his patient?" Lex asked, bitterness filling his voice, remembering the words Lionel had spoken over his head after a particularly revealing session behind locked doors.

"Time…" Lorenzo murmured, "Right now I don't know what else can be done."

Clark woke up again in the late afternoon. This time he noticed, he was alone, completely alone. The room was filled with wintry light that sifted through the white chiffon curtains that at night were covered by the think blue drapes… This room was luxury. This house, this magnificent manor was luxury. Clark stretched out, realising he was still fully dressed beneath the thin blanket that had been tucked in about him, and sat up with a little yawn. Gently he circled his head on his shoulders, stretching the tense muscles he could feel tightening about him. If anything this place was heaven, a haven in the midst of a hellish world.

It was true wasn't it? That earth was just a different word for cruelty and misery and pain and nightmares. No… It wasn't all true… He could remember being happy, he could remember love and laughter with his friends and his-

Colour drained from his face as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Lex. What had he said? How much did Lex now know? Would he hate him? Was that why he was alone? Was that the reason Lex had left him here when he had never done so before?

"Lex?" He called softly, too softly he knew for it to be heard.

Nothing. Silence greeted him in return, between the whispers of the whining wind. Clark felt the calm that had still be snug around him from sleep whisked away by fate. Lex must hate him. Lex must have realised why he was so unworthy of his friendship. Lex must know about his impurities. He didn't want the perfect man marred by his contamination.

_He didn't freak out when he found out you were an alien._ A little voice whispered in his head. That was true but… Lex wasn't… Lex wouldn't be… Lex was untainted. He had said it himself, Lex had been reborn that day that Clark had saved him. But then again that was when his own addiction had started. The day his life had been changed was the day he met Lex Luthor.

The realisation of the changes came slowly; ever since Luthor had arrived his relationship with his parents had seemed on edge. Time after time he had had to put his family, and his friends too, second after his duty to the town and the mutations he had caused with his crashing entrance to the world. He and Jonathon had had a more bitter relationship as the older Kent realised that Clark would not stop being 'the Luthor brat's' friend. He didn't understand why Jonathon had never been able to give Lex a proper chance, only a resigned agreement to a truce.

With a forlorn sigh Clark pulled himself out of the bed entirely, swiftly beginning to feel claustrophobic with the sentiments ricocheting off the walls of his room. He needed air.

The door was slightly ajar and Clark knew that if he went straight ahead he would find himself at the door of Lex's study. That was certainly not where he wanted to be though, his friend was probably busy and he definitely didn't have the right to interrupt. But the question was… Was left or right the way out? Peering cautiously down to the end of the right hand corridor he could see a series of serious looking ancestors from the Luthor name and another set of corridors stretching out from it. Tentatively he decided to take the other route, deciding that it had perhaps the better claim as it only had one branch coming off it instead of two and Clark really only wanted things to be simple right that moment. He could always turn around anyway.

Lex stood in the window, the light from the gloomy outdoors floating across his face as clouds covered the sun, "So you've come to tell me what, father?" He asked with a completely blank mask in place, his tone sneering.

"That little business proposition you had for me a while back, I've now come across one of my own," His father was looking tired around his eyes, the lines in his face deeper than Lex remembered them being before. Was the old man really so perturbed by Clark's disappearance? He doubted it. There had to be something else.

"I will not bend to suit _you_." He replied, flippant this time, taking a sip from a glass of water.

Lionel frowned slightly before covering up his disapproval with a smile, "I know you don't, son, which is why I think you'll find this to your advantage."

"Explain." He might as well entertain his father, mislead him a little, see what the twisted man had thought up this time.

The flame lit up in Lionel's eyes, the passion for his work taking over and for a second Lex could forget what his father had done; in that look it was as if the man his mother loved was still there beneath the surface of his mask, "You must first understand that I have a series of investments in pharmaceutical companies, medicinal value is at an all time high and I believed that through a number of experiments I had indeed discovered the cure to some of our most vicious afflictions; cancer for one."

Lex scowled, knowing that his father had dropped that in there to appeal to the guilt that he still felt over his mother's death. He had let her down… Had not found the cure fast enough and Lionel was manipulating it. Well he would just have to fool it.

"The key to this experiment was a young man, someone I remember you being very close with, Clark Kent."

Everything fell into place, surely and suddenly and his father must have mistaken the horror that had flittered into his eyes for surprise as he endeavoured on, "You remember his disappearance I'm sure but the truth is he came to me looking for guidance as he was struggling with a… mutation… he had acquired from this place…" He paused for effect, "And knowing he was your friend I obliged. Now, he ran away, under the influence of his mutation and I believe he could potentially serve as a great threat to society. All I ask is that if he comes to you, you inform me immediately in order that his danger may be contained and we can continue to develop this potential cure."

"And you offer me what?" Lex spat it out but his father was unfazed.

"A fifty/fifty split with me over my shares in the company."

He was desperate. Lex thought of the sobbing wreck that had arrived at his home such as short time ago, remembered the peaceful face that he had left sleeping in order to speak with the man before him. He smirked, "Lovely offer father, but I decline."

"W… Wh…What?" Lionel had gone white, angry red blood blotching in his cheeks, "You _what_?"

"I decline. You've lied to me the whole way through your proposal, you've asked me to hand over the greatest friend I've ever had and only so that you may 'experiment' on him. I understand the nature of your research, father, I'm not a fool like you believe." Lex took another sip of his water and turned away, "Now if you'd just show yourself the door."

He could imagine the purple colour of his father's face, imagine the fury and the want to lash out and strike him as he had so many times when he was a child. Outside the cold, grey day was beginning to brighten; sun tilting itself so that it could peer out from behind a mantle of cloud. Behind him he heard his father's breath becoming laboured, a chair scraping back, footsteps and then a fierce grip on his shoulders. Pain shot through him as he was roughly shoved up against the wall. Lionel's livid look brought back brutal memories from his childhood. He had pushed him too far. The man slammed him into the wall again, causing Lex to hiss.

"Think about it. It could be the world." The man smashed his spine into the wall once more, dropping him to the floor before kicking him in the stomach, "Think about it very hard."

Lost. Lost in a manor he thought he knew… Shivers were shaking his body, he was alone and lost and afraid. He wanted to know where he was, he wanted his x-ray vision back then he'd be safe, he'd know where he was then. There were rooms he had never seen, dining rooms and bed rooms that didn't look like they had ever been slept in, the gallery of paintings from all over the world that he had found himself entranced by, a photo studio covered in black and white snapshots of Smallville, the weird and the wonderful and many of himself… Wryly he wondered if he was weird or wonderful in Lex's eyes. Probably neither now… Lex hated him.

Wrapping his arms about himself he settled back into the corner of the art gallery, knowing that someone would have to find him eventually… One of the servants that would find him and smile sadly and tell him that a Lionel Luthor was coming to retrieve him and save him from his wicked thoughts.

"It's not my fault I love him…" He whispered up at the faces of the paintings about him, they continued to stare, eyes still full of the same emotion as they had before. An angel curled into the side of an alley, smoking caught his eye. The angel's face seemed so solemn, so disappointed… He wondered if he was disappointed at him… He imagined it was. Saddened by the stupidity of his weakness… He remembered people calling him strong and amazing and super human. He wasn't even human though… He was a grubby freak that couldn't even find his own way through a house he'd frequented in the past. He was so useless. Leaning his head back against the wall he looked up, looked through the ceiling and the roof and imagined that he was dancing on the clouds with the drizzling rain.

He could remember someone telling him God was in the rain… Maybe it could wash away the contamination if he let it. Pearls slid across his cheeks and he didn't know if he was sad or content in that moment.

Lex shivered uncontrollably where his father had left him, seconds ticking into moments into minutes and all he knew was that he had failed in his promise to himself. He had failed to come through on the one thing he swore he would never let happen again to him. He had let his father hurt him. If only he could be assured of Clark's safety, he was certain that his father knew that all the star child had to turn to in the world was Lex himself now. Chloe and Pete were, of course, also options; only that they had neither the security nor the ability to keep a secret such as Clark Kent safe. He was beginning to wonder if he himself did.

Fragile as glass… it was as if his mask was this solid, perfect shield that was made of the most delicate crystal and now it had once again been splintered by his father… his new protection dropped and broken in seconds as he let his father abuse him. He knew that masks could be resurrected… that the old could be replaced with the new, but the lessons he had learnt when he was little were simple: each mask can be worn with ease, but each time it breaks a little part of your self goes with it, irreplaceable.

With a sigh, the pale young man gathered his wits, collecting the fragments of his pretence and threading them back into place. Slowly rising, Lex decided to check on his guest, praying the boy hadn't been too perturbed by his absence if he had awoken. Something in his gut told him otherwise, something told him that things were not all alright with his young friend.

Padding down the corridor towards their adjoining rooms he noticed immediately that the door was wide open, not how he would have left it… Heart leaping to hang in this throat, he hurried to the door, pulling it open to see the empty bed and the crumpled sheets he knew were there.

"Shit." He cursed aloud; where would his boy have gone? He could be anywhere… Lex paled… He could have found his lead lined room, the shrine of Clark Kent that he had created during his time of obsessive need to know. Slowly he turned, not knowing which way to go from the room itself, knowing he'd just have to rely on his intuition… He was awful at this game.

Lionel sat, fuming, in his car. How dare Lex defy him? How dare he go against his own father in such a crude manner? It went against everything that was Luthor. The Luthor name stood for dignity and finesse and eloquence, even in the face of an enemy the aim was to remain cold and removed from the topic, shooting it down with witticisms after completely annihilating the case made for it. Lex had clearly forgotten his manners. Manners were everything in their world; why couldn't the foolish boy take heed of his faults and be rid of them? Clark Kent had twisted the perfect shell that had been Lex Luthor into a powerful young man that could think, live, breathe without Lionel's authority. It wasn't right. Lex was his. Nothing would ever change that.

He bent, looking for the suitcase he had placed under his seat, only to realise it wasn't there. He snarled. He had left it in his blasted son's office.

"Turn us around, Swaniker, I've left some important documentation at the manor."

He saw his driver's tired sigh and smirked, he loved having the power to hurt people… if only he hadn't become so addicted to the cries of a beautiful monster.

Clark came down from the clouds, drained, his eyes heavy with reflection and badly contained pain. He wondered if memories ever stopped hurting… If time would make things seem less real… He'd heard it did… That as memories faded so did the hurt… Or maybe it would make it worse. Shaking his head he realise that something of the rain had left tracks on his face and he frowned to himself, he cried too often these days. He never used to cry. Weeping was weakness, he remembered Luthor telling him that as he smirked down at him… He'd been beaten and flayed until he could no longer feel his back as so many nerves had been shredded, but Lionel of course didn't care about that. Lionel liked to hear his screams; liked to punish him further if only to elicit more cries and tears.

Whimpering, Clark curled into himself, remembering. Why had it all happened? He didn't know anything. He couldn't do anything. And no one had cared to find out. No one until…

"Lex…" he whispered… But even his saviour hated him now. He wouldn't be taken away again. He couldn't go through it all again. And Lionel would be so mad. He would be furious, livid, incensed by vehemence at his escape. There wouldn't be a respite…

"Oh please…"

The nightmares had come back, were tugging at his eyes to turn into memory. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

The first sign of Clark was in the haphazardly opened doors. Every so often there was a room unbolted and left gaping into whatever space lay behind it. Smiling slightly, he wondered what the boy had thought of the vast rooms he had never been privy to before. He had probably been disturbed by the sheer amount of them, all tucked into the walls as if there was an enchantment enlarging the space. At least this was the wrong side of the house for Clark to find anything concerning in. This was the creative side of his home. Perhaps some sort of solace would have been found in this part of the house.

Every so often he called out for his friend, but there was still no sign of him. Not for the first time, Lex resented the sheer size of the manor. It was too big for just himself at any rate.

That was when he heard it. The smallest of whimpers. A distinctly Clarkish whimper. Tiny but still there Lex began to follow the noise, listening as intently as possible so that he could discern between reverberating echoes and the actual sounds. Rounding the corner he found himself in the gallery. Art lined the walls in a haphazardly arranged hall of portraits, paintings and mixed media work from all over the world. He loved this place… it was a calm place and he could remember many times that it had lent him a sort of solace. Today, however, it was protecting more than just paintings, curled up into the wall there was a crumpled form.

"Hey Clark…" He said in a low voice as he came slowly towards the miserable figure, "I wondered where you'd gone." He smiled, glowing inside at finding his friend. Then the complete terror that tore apart Clark's face put out the light, "Angel, what's wrong?" Concern flooded into his veins, what had disturbed him so much?

Clark flinched as he reached out to touch him, curling further into himself. What did he think he was going to do now? With a sad sigh, Lex moved away again, sliding down to settle against the opposite wall. The blue eyed boy was trying desperately not to meet his gaze and Lex, for the umpteenth time when it came to Clark, didn't know what to do. The silence spread, neither willing to break the delicate thread that invisibly circled them.

Lionel stormed through to Lex's office, he wanted to scare the brat again after their little meeting only a short while before. Flinging open the doors with a lavishness that was overly excessive for the occasion he glared directly at an empty chair in a desolate room. There lay his case, untouched by the plush seat he'd been settled in before and the study was Lexless. Where would the boy have gone? Probably to find sanctuary in his room and lick his wounds. Lionel growled, deciding to go investigate, he could find a reason for the intrusion, an excuse to frighten his beaten child a little further. He did so delight in seeing old wounds reopen in Lex's eyes. Those ridiculously expressive eyes thanks to the decadent influence of the Kent boy.

The Kent boy… Blue eyes glazed over with panic and pain… perfect…

He wanted the boy back.

"Lexy… Where are you?" He snarled as he began to prowl through the corridor, specifically choosing to use the pet name the boy's mother had used to put more sting into the words that no one was going to hear.

Or maybe he'd have trekked to his 'shadow gallery', the pathetic collection of artwork he'd accumulated over the years, it was a waste of space that Lionel had never appreciated but Lex, he remembered, had loved.

"Oh yes Lexy… I'll find you…"

There was no malice in Lex's eyes… no anger or disgust… And the shadows were pulled back from his eyes as the pale white glow that seemed to circle his friend drove them away. He didn't want to believe that Lex was under the thumb of Lionel. He wanted Lex to hold him and care for him. But he didn't want to be touched if he was just to be pushed away. He didn't want proof that Lex hated him… so he bowed into himself, uncertain and shaking…

Why was Lex so… He didn't know which word was right… Lex was many things that he didn't understand… He was sexy and smart and sarcastic and yet still sensitive beneath it all… He was incomprehensibly layered, as if he'd been constructed like a jigsaw, piece after piece to make up the man before him… Why was Lex so complicated? How many times had he been thrown off by a cold shoulder? How many times had he been held close for comfort? There was faces to his friend he had yet to discover and now he was scared to know what was real and what wasn't…

Lionel prowled at the back of his mind. Red hair and maniacal eyes would never leave him alone. Cowering away further, he whimpered… Pleading with his ghostly phantom to leave him. Begging for freedom from the foul restraints that bound him.

"Angel…" Lex, it seemed, couldn't bare to take the silence any more.

Tentatively, afraid of seeing the echoing look of his parents, he lifted his head, lifted his eyes to the one man he had never lost hope in.

Something sparkled beneath the surface of the grey irises, something suspiciously akin to unshed tears. Why was Lex unhappy? Lex wasn't meant to be unhappy… Lex never let himself slip enough to show… Without thinking, Clark unravelled himself, finding himself running his thumb over the light rouge that had risen with the shimmering in the storm.

Their eyes never left each others… Clark felt arms lace themselves around his waist, holding him carefully, protectively. Gently Lex tugged him nearer, bringing their faces closer; Clark could feel the tickle of Lex's breaths across his cheek. A single tear slipped from the long lashes to trace the gentle slope of Lex's face. And just as sadly as before, he found himself brush the tear away, wondering at the sudden sorrow in his friend.

Lex lifted his face up slightly, smiling softly as their lips hovered only inches apart. They both shoevered slightly, nestling into one another's embrace more fondly as they did so. One hand rose to bury itself in the unruly mop of hair, the other teased his neck, circling motions with long, pale fingers making Clark's eyes widen with a mixture of emotion. Was Lex… Were they… Noses touched, eye fluttered shut and lips…

"LEX!"

Clark went rigid in the warm arms that pulled him even closer. Footsteps… That voice… This had been a trap. Clark moaned, slipping back into his reality, misery cascading down in showers… Lex had ensnared him so… Why? He looked up into grey, longing to understand. But all he saw was fear… and this time he wasn't sure who for…

"LEXY!" Lionel knew the brat would be here. If he wasn't then… No the boy had to be. Where else would the predictable young fool crawl away to find refuge? He rounded the corner into the gallery with a snarl as he caught sight of the wretch. Lex was sitting, head bowed, not looking at him but he glared anyway. He made him so angry.

"You went through my case." He made sure his voice was icy as the Styx , the fury hidden in the full grip of force. Lionel wanted to see her eyes, his wife's eyes in his son. The grey swept through with dark silver fear. He wanted Lex to fall apart.

"I didn't see your case, father." Lex's voice was layered to resemble control. He had taught him so well.

"I returned to your office only to find it on your desk, opened. You went through private documentation didn't you, Lexy?" Lionel saw the quiver in the narrow shoulders.

"No."

Rage bubbled and frothed. Fury spat over the edges and Lionel grabbed his first toy, lifting it, slamming it into the wall, letting him fall to the ground with a hiss. Then he kicked him. Repeatedly stamping his boot into the pale, bruising flesh. Not a sound, Lex, not a sound… He backed off, waiting for Lex to stagger to his feet. Watching as he did so… seeing the tremble in his stance, watching for the inevitable break in his porcelain mask. The bruises would be gone before they had settled. His son did have a remarkable talent for miraculous healings. So he let the grey settle on him, emotionless still. And he pulled back his arm. He let his hands curl into a fist. The impact set Lex to the floor, unmoving, blood trickling from his nose.

"Don't look through my belongings, Lex. I thought you'd have known that by now." He tried to sound saddened, but with the bald freak lying unresponsive on the floor, he couldn't help but feel a smile carve itself into his face.

The maniac had had enough fun though… at least for today.

With satisfaction streaming through his veins, Lionel Luthor left his son alone, knowing sooner or later someone would come along and find him. Probably the boy would have recovered. Probably the boy would be broken.

Clark crept out from his hiding place inside a portrait, still afraid, but more worried about his friend. He knelt at his side, tenderly tugging Lex closer, pulling him into his arms. Blood was sliding across his pale skin, dripping across his lip. Clark didn't know what to do… What if Lionel was still there? What if he was waiting for him to fall into his trap. But Lex was hurt... Lex needed the expertise of Doctor Lorenzo. Lex needed to be taken care of this time. Looking into the passive unconsciousness of Lex's face he wondered if this was the reason for all Lex's subtleties and masks.

Clark was inside a painting. Clark was safe. Clark was inside a painting. He'd be fine. He'd see everything. He'd never be able to look at him again. He'd turn away. He wouldn't feel safe with him anymore… And he was trapped. Lionel had taken him back to Arkam. No… He wouldn't have… Clark was safe… That's all that matter… That his angel was safe…

"Clark…" He groaned. Forcing his eyes open, only to meet a too bright light.

"He's here. He's right here." Lorenzo's gravely tone shuffled warmth between words. He wasn't at Arkam. He was just with Lorenzo.

"Lionel didn't…" Lex squinted through the lights, looking for the dark haired man he had braved his father for.

"He didn't find me." Clark's voice was small, uncertain.

"Good…" Lex reached out for the voice, felt a hand curl into his, "I just don't think here is safe anymore though…"

Lorenzo shot him a look that even the light couldn't blind. He knew what his patient was thinking. It made sense, Lex knew it made sense, they needed to slip away unnoticed by his father to somewhere that Lionel would never find them. Clark's grip tightened slightly and he knew he had to do it… they had to leave before it was too late, portraits couldn't hide his guest forever.

"I think we need to go to Switzerland."

FIN 

**Woo Woo! The end of another chapter at last. And I get to send them away. AND I got in a precious moment that really was desperately needed. Awww that reminded me of me and my boyf. I think we should go for another chapter, don't you? Toodle pop! - Matt**


	5. Maybe Today

Chapter Six - Suspicious Minds

White chiffon clouds were simmering to a dusky blue as the sun collapsed into it's bloody red miasma of light behind the silhouetted mountains. The stars were peering out from the clouds, squinting as they woke up for their nocturnal reign. Above the peaks of the mountain range, the moon was faithfully reflecting the sun's rays across the untouched snow, turning it to fairy dust beneath its eerie glow. Clark sighed and leant out across the balcony, his eyes glimmering with awe and happiness. His warm breaths were creating twisting dragons which danced and disappeared rapidly through the dusk-blue darkness that was setting in. Lex was right; this place was beautiful.

In a way it reminded Clark of Lex. This whole thing. This beautiful, enchanting place; with it's cold, unforgiving exterior which was so perfect and offered him his only solace from the nightmares from home. Lex was just like that. Though he was so much more too. He was still Lex Luthor, the front man on the surface; cold, aloof and intangible. But since they had become friends the older man had shown himself to be compassionate, caring and considerate towards not only him but so many others. And now he knew that Lex was just like this country that had secretly embraced their escape, because he had excepted him with open arms just as readily. Lex was his salvation and this place, Clark looked up at the chalet and the night sky; this place was their salvation together. At least he hoped it would be.

"Clark, you in here?" Lex's voice interrupted his thoughts as a door gently was shut indoors.

"Out here." Clark called back, turning away from the view to see Lex come through the rouge silk curtains with two mugs of hot chocolate in his hands.

Clark raised an eyebrow and his friend smiled guiltily.

"There was only instant coffee..." He said a little sheepishly.

Clark laughed slightly and took the mug from his friend, "Thank you." Lex looked at him strangely, an unfamiliar shine in his eye.

"What?" Now Clark was confused. Did he have something on his face? Had his alien heritage come back to haunt him? He felt the corners of his mouth twitch, Chloe used to tease him about that.

"It's nothing." Lex smiled, the smile that Clark was sure only about half a dozen living people had ever seen. But the smile spread into a goofy sort of grin that almost scared Clark in it's abnormality on his friend, "It's just... you just laughed."

Clark felt colour rise into his cheeks as he realised why his friend was so happy. It was true. He hardly remembered the last time he had properly laughed. But it was as if this place had temporarily locked away some of the fear. Maybe it was the fact that after Lionel's antics in the Gallery, he knew that Lex would protect him. Maybe it was because no one except Lorenzo knew where they were and the good doctor was staying in Villars, a little town just down the mountain. Maybe it was because he had felt something akin to hope when he had been wrapped in Lex's arms on the flight. Maybe... Maybe it was all of those things but all he knew was that he felt freer than he had in months, just watching that sun slide down the snow and bow its head to say farewell. He smiled.

"Thank you for bringing me here." He said eventually, turning his eyes back to the landscape stretching out in the snow. He rested his elbows on the ledge of the wooden balcony, cupping his hot chocolate in his hands as he stood there.

Lex settled beside him; stillness filling the gap between them in a comfortable quilt of companionship. Stormy grey eyes scanned the horizon, Clark tilted his head to watch his friend as he familiarised himself with the scene.

"My mother brought me here when I was really little... I must have been about six..." Lex said softly, "She and I came alone, because my father was away for four months and that meant we could disappear for about four weeks without him noticing. I think she knew something was wrong with her, even then. Because she said it was important for her and that it would do us both the world of good. Everyday..." He paused, waiting for Clark to nod that it was alright for him to continue, "Everyday we'd come outside and build snowmen and ice angels and she'd paint sometimes and I'd go exploring; I used to want to be an explorer you know." Lex smiled sadly, "She said we'd come back one day. But we never had the chance."

Clark watched his friend closely, seeing how the memories must spin their magic over his friend the same way they did with him sometimes. He stepped a little closer and rested against the side of Lex's arm, "That's a good memory." He whispered. Lex nodded and Clark found their fingers entwined. Lex sipped at his drink and Clark smirked at the strange look of pleasure as it settled over the pale features, clouding his eyes.

--------------------------------

Lionel was standing at the foot of his bed, face lit up by the fires that burnt all about them. The room was overpoweringly hot and he couldn't breath. His lungs were inflamed, his throat was clogged with air that was too think to breath. His eyes were burning and blistering and Lex was lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. His favourite Armani suit was ripped open and his bare chest was exposed to the nightmare heat. Long gashes were drawn across his chest, down through the fabric of his destroyed suit so that the blood was pouring out and boiling in the air. Lionel grinned and held a knife that dripped with blood in his mouth. His tongue came out to lick the knife clean, the mean pink muscle lapping up the life of his own son so that he could have Clark.

"Lex!" He managed to gasp as the body on the floor convulsed as Lionel turned from Clark and buried the knife into the flesh of his son's shoulder all the way to the hilt before ripping it out sideways as to cut through the ragged skin. Lex's scream was a broken gurgle as blood spat out of his mouth and Lionel swooped down to kiss his own son, sucking up some of the blood. Then the monster turned back to Clark who was unable to move because the fire was burning on green rock.

The monster crawled up his body, running his dirty, bloody hands over his body and then pressing his blood soak lips to Clark's, making Lex's blood run over his face. Clark was frozen but tears formed in his eyes only to disappear through the scorching fires.

"Clark," Lex was calling him from the floor, "Clark. Clark, wake up."

The mottled body was gone, Lionel was still there but he turned to the voice only to be beaten aside by a different Lex who's eyes were warm but hands were cool.

"Wake up, angel."

And Clark woke up, bursting into hysterics and falling into the embrace of the man he loved but who was far too good for him.

Lex was worried. It seemed that although most of the time Clark could function almost normally now that they were away from Smallville, at night the dreams were worse and because of the 'normalcy' during the day, he wouldn't even allow Lex to look after him at night until it was too late and the house was trembling with Clark's sobs.

"I'm sorry." Clark would say every time. Over and over, that word 'sorry' would be repeated through his ear and Lex was beginning to be sick of it. It wasn't Clark's fault he had nightmares. He, himself, had nightmares thanks to his father. He'd always had nightmares but of course over time they'd begun to fade, just every so often a particularly vicious one coming up from the hollows of his mind. He hardly had them these days... But that wasn't to say they he never did. It was just Clark had to learn that it wasn't his fault. Yet no matter how often he told him the boy just wouldn't believe him.

g

"I don't want you to be sorry any more..." Lex whispered as Clark whimpered in his sleep, curling in on himself.

Lex hadn't gone to bed when Clark thought he had, he had just sat outside until the boy was asleep and the waited beside him until the dreams began. Sometimes he would hear his own name mumbled, as if Lex was being some how hurt or taken away in the subconscious reality. He reached out and began to run his hands through the thick dark hair. Remembering how his mother had used to do exactly that to help him calm down when he was little.

"It's alright, Clark, it's just a dream." He murmured, knowing that his friend probably couldn't hear him. To his surprise, however, something seemed to be working as the body in the bed relaxed, only moving to reach out towards the real Lex sitting beside him. Not really knowing what to do, Lex let himself be pulled closer until he was on the bed and they were back to the scenario at his manor back home. Only this time Clark didn't give Lex time to go to sleep before he woke up.

"Did I wake you up again?" Clark looked unhappy, and a single tear leaked form his eye.

"No angel, I just couldn't sleep." Lex ran his fingers through the chocolate locks and let himself curl closer to the other man as he felt a chill down his neck.

"Oh... Okay..." Clark was sleepy still and the blue eyes were peering up from behind heavy lashes, "Thank you for waking me up... I thought you were really gone this time."

Lex frowned, this was the first time Lex had ever been offered any sort of detail from Clark's nightmares. Did his angel still think he'd walk out now? Even after... he decided to simply remind Clark that he wouldn't ever leave by retelling him that fact and placing a small kiss on his forehead.

"I know. But you can't help it if he hurts you..." Clark murmmured and nestled into Lex's chest, Lex shifted, unsure if Clark knew what he was doing in his dozy state, "Don't... Please stay."

Lex smiled and caught the blue eyes with his own, "I won't. I can stay."

g

"It's easier when I know you're there," Clark whispered, "I don't know why... Maybe it's because I'm not alone... Maybe it's because I know you're safe and I'm safe if you're there with me... Maybe it's just because it's you... There are a hundred reasons I'm sure it could just be because it's you."

Lex was too peaceful to wake up, even though Clark knew that his friend probably had more important things to do than take care of him. He sighed slightly, pulling the duvet closer about his neck, he liked this feeling of being snug and warm, next to Lex, knowing that it was this cocoon that was special and that the outside world could wait.

"Yeah, there are lots of reasons for everything." He grinned and tentatively he ran a finger down the alabaster cheek, just to make sure he wasn't simply having a good dream.

Lex stirred and made a faint mumbling sound as he was disturbed slightly from his slumber. Clark chuckled lightly and did it again. Only to stop as he heard his name slip from Lex's lips. He remembered the moment in the art gallery. They had been so close to something... something he had only dared to think of when his parents weren't home and when the stakes were so high he knew he needed something to play for. What would have happened if... Would they have...? Clark shook his head and then gasped slightly as grey eyes opened slowly, squinting slightly in the daylight glow.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Clark said gently, recalling with a pang of regret, how his mother had used to say that on waking him up when he was small.

"'Ning..." Lex managed with a half hearted smile, "'stime?"

"It's nearly eleven I think... Though I might be wrong. The ten chime went ages ago though." He had heard the grandfather clock from the ground floor as it had struck out its timber melody of hours, but he hadn't heard its latest bell sound.

"Sleep..." Lex mumbled and closed his eyes again. Clark was amused. Lex really must be tired, or just not an easy adaptor to the time zones. Or maybe just not a morning person.

"I think we should get up..." He ventured up a couple of minutes later to a return grunt from the older man beside him, who pouted in his stupor making Clark burst into laughter. Lex had never looked more like a petulant kid than he did right then. For once, Clark could remember that Lex was an only child. The thought made him giggle slightly. Lex moaned a soft 'Clark' before rolling onto his back and blearily looking up into his eyes.

"Plan?"

"I don't know..." Clark didn't like it when Lex asked him for ideas, he didn't feel as if... well as if he had any right to do so... "You choose?"

Lex smirked, albeit sleepily, wrapping his arm around Clark's neck. He pulled himself up slightly and then suddenly tugged the younger boy down on top of him, "Sleep." He said and laughed out loud when he saw the surprised face of his friend.

Clark smiled.

Clark noticed how their bodies had aligned as he had fallen and how Lex's arm was still wrapped around his neck. He didn't want to move. But he didn't know what to think as they lay there, blue meeting grey, and as Lex slowly became more and more awake.

Lex's fingers were playing with a stray strand of hair and Clark shivered, leaning into Lex's touch, guiltily imagining those fingers tracing across his neck and over his lips as they had done before. Sinking into the pillows beside Lex he felt the small shift in their bodies and blushed slightly. Did Lex know what he was doing? Did Lex not understand what he was doing to him?

He was still so unsure.

Lex loved Clark's hair. He loved the way it moved between his fingers like silk, the way it was just so glossy and tousled. It was strange but in all his lovers the first thing his noticed was their hair. He wasn't sure why though he guessed it was because he could hardly remember a time where he had had any. Almost pathetic but still... The fact remained that he loved Clark's hair and the way it fell across those wide blue eyes of his.

"Love your eyes..." He murmured, not paying attention to what he was saying.

Clark blushed, probably thinking Lex was still half asleep. He wondered if Clark could like him the way he liked him. Could his one true wish... That secret he'd so carefully hidden; come true? He doubted it but in his barely there consciousness the dreams of the night were still prevalent.

The red that suffused Clark's cheeks was cute too.

Clark was just damn cute.

He always had been. But there had been times were he'd thought he was hot. Sexy. Fuckable. He was still fuckable. But then again he was just so damn cute. So desperate to be held and loved and he deserved it with someone who wasn't as messed up as Lex was. Even though he loved him, Clark deserved someone who's family wouldn't hunt him and who could provide him with the time and attention that Lex knew he couldn't if he wanted to retain his economic empire.

Clark was the one to shift this time. Their bodies rubbing and a small, involuntary gasp came from the younger man. Lex smirked drowsily and moved his hand from Clark's hair to run luxuriously across the finely toned muscle of Clark's shoulder and arm. Clark's eyes met his. And there was that feeling from before. Dark and uncertain but there, the swirling passion that encircled him.

Slowly Lex's fingers drifted up to Clark's neck, his jawbone, his cheek. Their faces became closer until their noses scraped and Clark's eyes fluttered slightly. Lex tilted his head and soft warm lips met in a tentative touch.

Eyes flickered closed.

g

Their lips moved unhurriedly against each other as hands moved to bring bodies closer, Lex's sliding into Clark's hair and Clark's rising to ring Lex's neck. Clark moaned slightly as Lex pulled away slightly and eyes opened questioning why it had ended so soon.

Lex smirked altering their position so that this time legs entwined and Lex was more in control of their kiss. Lips met again, this time more urgently before, Lex's deft tongue licking across Clark's lips and prising them open quickly to deepen it. The small sound that came from the dark haired boy this time was full of contentment and as they wrapped around each other both found themselves falling away from everything else about them.

They did not hear the doctor knock at the door or see his smile as he walked away from the room. They did not pay attention when a phone rang. They did not here the clock striking the hour from the bottom of the staircase.

g

Lorenzo had never been a complicated man. Far from it. He preferred the simple things in life, like a warm shower and a good breakfast were good enough for him. So he always wondered how Lex could put up with so much extravagance that he had on occasion declared distasteful himself. With a sigh he slogged up the stairs. Not all that interested in the paintings on the walls or the ornaments in the little alcoves. It was much simpler than the manor but still.

Typical Luthor.

And of course he'd have to check up on the Clark kid as soon as possible. He liked him actually. A good influence on the otherwise almost reclusive Lex who's loneliness had caused him too much strife in the past for him to not acknowledge now. Though he had to say, he'd be torn if either of them did anything to hurt one another. He wouldn't admit it. It wasn't in his nature. But he did care about both boys sincerely.

So sincerely that as he pushed open the door tow Lex's room because he couldn't hear voices and assumed he was going to have to wake them up. He wasn't prepared for what he saw. The two boys he cared for to the extent that they felt like sons. At first he wanted to interrupt them then he felt ashamed. There was something incredibly beautiful about the way they were so wrapped up in each other. Something unmistakably innocent about the way they were kissing. Something he had never thought to say about Lex.

He couldn't help but wonder what they were prepared for. Lex never gave his heart away easily whereas Clark was in a state of psycological insecurity and need. He was sure that even before this chaos there had been something platonic between the two though he was worried now. Not just for Lex. Not only for Clark. They both needed something from the other that he was concerned would be too painful for either of them to deliver.

Could they keep things together now?

He imagined the way their arms were wrapped so protectively and caringly around each other. He recalled the tenderness of Lex's embrace, the equally anxious way Clark's mouth had kissed the young Luthor back.

They would be fine.

Simply because... They had to be.

But he suspected, just like any happiness, they would be hard pressed to sustain it. Especially when the red haired megalomaniac was involved. There had to be something he could do. He would make some tea and mused.

And at the same time, across the Atlantic Ocean, someone else was doing exactly that with a pen and paper in hand. His letter starting: 'Dear Mr Luthor...'

**Wow what a beast of a time I've had with my computer! I'm so sorry for all the delays and I'm so thankful to EVERYONE who has sent me a review. It's strange how many people have responded and I love it. I've written the last line of the last chapter (this isn't it) and it made me cry. So be prepared. grins Hope you all have a wonderful summer! - Matt **


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